


Save My Spot at the Races

by A_Hamilton



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hair Washing, I'm Sorry, M/M, Protective!Spot, Race is an IDIOT, Spot is a Good Boyfriend, but we all love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 04:38:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16803790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Hamilton/pseuds/A_Hamilton
Summary: To all you B99 fans out there, you know how Charles keeps saying that the best thing you can do for a loved one is to wash their hair? Well, I decided to write a thing with your two favorite boys, Spot and Race.-Or,The one where Race gets injured and Spot patches him up. And washes his hair.





	Save My Spot at the Races

"What the hell, Racetrack?" Spot stormed into the Brooklyn lodging house with Race trailing behind. Race was a mess. There were bruises on his arms and hands and he was sporting a black eye and a gash down one cheek. His hair was caked with mud and dirt and blood. "You can't jus' waltz right into a fight with ten strong men with canes and knives and think you's jus' gonna walk away aftah without so much as a scrape! They could've killed you! You knew that, right? Tell me you ain't that stupid! Talk to me Anthony!"

"Spot, plea-"

"NO! I don't wanna hear about it! You could've died! You'se stupid but'cha ain't that stupid! Thank your lucky stars you was in Brooklyn and my men heard your fight."

"Spottie..."

"Don't call me that! Sit down and shut up! You knew it was a dumb move but'cha still did it! You idiot!"

Race knew there was no arguing. He sat down dejectedly and watched his boyfriend walk into his room. He heard things being shoved about with more force than necessary. Finally, Spot strode out with a box clutched tightly in his hands. Race knew that box was the"first-aid kit" because he had been patched up multiple times since he and Spot became friends.

"Take off your shirt."

Despite his pain, Race found it in him somewhere to smirk and say, even though he knew he was probably pushing it too far, "You have something in mind, Conlon?"

That remark was enough to earn him a glare and a, "The only thing in my mind is patching you up. Unless you don't want me to help with that. Then fine. I'll go to bed now. It's been a shitty day."

Race huffed in frustration and pulled his shirt over his head. "I's fine, Spot, really."

"No. You ain't"

Race knew from experience that there was no reasoning with Spot when he was in this mood. He sat still and watched as Spot cleaned him up.

***

Race groggily opened his eyes to find himself in Spot's bed. Looking under the covers and checking all his bruises, he was pleased to find that he was all patched up.

He closed his eyes again and tried to remember last night. Angry words. Shouts. Trying to apologise and being cut off every time. Finally, silence. Race didn't know which was worse: the loud arguing or the quiet afterwards. He decided that the quiet was much worse because Spot wouldn't even look him in the eyes or even say goodnight when he finished dressing the wounds. He remembered taking Spot's bed because Spot had already positioned himself on the old couch. The door opened and he heard the subject of his thoughts clear his throat.

"Y'alright?" Spot said awkwardly. Well. That was an improvement.

"Yeah, I's alright." said Race, opening his eyes.

"Good. When you is strong enough we'll wash you up." Spot said and sat down on the bed pointedly looking straight ahead at the wall and not at Race.

"Hey, Spot?"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Worrying you like that."

Spot hesitated for a second before turning his head and looking at him. "Don' bother. I's sorry for yellin' at you."

"Probably woke everyone up while you were at it." Race smirked.

"Shut up." pause "Just promise me you won't do it again?"

"I'll try."

"Thanks. I love you."

"Love you too." Race fell back asleep again with a soft smile on his face.

***

The floor creaked as Spot got up from his perch on the wooden stool by the bed. The sound made Race wake up. Spot glanced over. "Feeling strong enough?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Water's still warm." Spot said, getting up and dragging the basin of water that stood in the corner of the room over to the side of the bed. With some effort they managed to undress Race ease him into the water.

"Now don't drown." Spot teased, pulling the stool over and sitting back down on it.

"How would I drown? There is no way I could drown like this." Race said as Spot began to pour water from a bucket over his head.

"You'd be surprised. Hold still and keep your mouth closed. Water may not be clean." Spot replied while trying to wash the clods of drying mud out of Race's hair. Maybe not the most romantic situation they could find themselves in, but it fit their relationship better than any weird scenario Spot could think of right then.

Race opened his mouth to utter an offended gasp and got a mouthful of muddy water.

"What did I tell you?"

Race sighed. "Love you."

"You better. After everything I do for you." then "I love you too, y'know."

Race knew in that moment that he wouldn't be spending another night in a cold bed. He would always have Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn, right there by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoped you liked it! Comments and kudos make my day!


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